


Club Night

by Kalloway



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Clubbing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 10:34:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20256703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalloway/pseuds/Kalloway
Summary: Squall ends up meeting someone at a club. But then what?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't recall how or where this was posted, but it was finished October 25, 2003. Damon is a character created by the friend I wrote this fic for, Trysten. I lost touch with her many years ago, but always, I wish her the best.

The music was so loud it felt like the entire structure was shaking, dancing in its own obscene way to the beat of the repetitious dance music that reverberated through its dark recesses. And in one of the darker, more receding recesses, a young brunette hid from the constant assault of the pounding music and the crush of bodies dancing in the same obscene manner as the building. He kept his head low, looking mainly at the ridiculous plastic sword that had fallen to the bottom of his glass once he'd eaten the garnish off of it and choked down most of the rather offensive beverage that had been ordered for him.

And at that moment, Squall Leonhart hated almost everyone. He hated Selphie for having the audacity to suggest he even come to a place like this. He hated Irvine for ordering the bedamned drink he had thankfully finished so long ago that his mouth was forgetting the wretched taste. He hated Quistis for basically sitting on him until he finally agreed to come, well aware he could throw her across the room but too respectful to actually do it. And most of all, he hated Zell. Not just for abandoning him in one of the dark back booths of the hellish club, but also for having the audacity to ask him to dance before doing so.

Dance... It wasn't that it was quite possibly the worst idea ever, despite the fact that it just might have been. It was quite a few things that, when lumped together, cemented the notion of it being the worst idea ever.

For starters, Squall wasn't much for dancing. Sure, he could do it, but he had to first want to. Second, he wasn't much for drinking, though a few more minutes in this place could change that quickly. And besides that, dancing with Zell, especially if it was the sort of groping decadence he'd witnessed on his way to his dark table, probably would have been more than a bit embarrassing.

He couldn't hear anything besides the pounding of the music, but he caught the shadow of the figure standing across the table from him a split second after he felt the distinct feeling of being watched. So much for a hiding place.

Somehow he heard the sound of another glass clinking against the empty one in front of him. Or maybe he didn't hear it so much as felt it, a counter rhythm to the bass line that seemed to be echoing even inside his body. It was almost hypnotizing at times, Squall had realized, and that was why he'd hidden as far in a corner as he could. It wasn't quite as permeating back there, buffered by the throngs of bodies and decorations between him and the blaring speakers.

He had been amazed to find a corner booth available, but the night was still quite young. Surely later in the night he'd be forced to vacate for a less inconspicuous location by some flock of groping club goers who wanted a tiny bit more privacy than the dance floor offered.

Looking up, Squall found himself staring at another man, one with spiky dark hair and beautiful dark makeup accentuating his face. He was wearing loose black pants and a shirt that may as well have not been there at all. His arms were decorated with a variety of leather straps and buckles ending in black fingerless gloves displaying slim fingers tipped with slightly chipped black nail polish.

And he had just set a drink in front of Squall, identical to the now empty glass beside it, except this one was brimming with the horrid concoction that had taken so long to choke down.

Before Squall could protest, the other man slid into the booth, setting his own drink down in front of him. It didn't have the same amount of vegetation Squall's did, instead it was a color Squall really wasn't sure anyone should be drinking.

The other man stared at Squall with dark eyes, silently waiting for his gift to be accepted so the night could move on. It was all Squall could do to not glare and then either knock the man unconscious or simply leave.

Still, the alcohol that was already in his system was doing its job and had lightened up the young brunette just enough that he made eye contact with his admirer for a brief second before grabbing the full glass in from of him. The other man raised an amused eyebrow as Squall removed the little plastic sword from the drink and made a small display of pulling each piece of vegetable free using only his tongue.

One black-tipped finger came to rest against a dark lower lips as Squall's admirer watched the show, letting a small smile show through as Squall looked over at him to double check that he had been watching.

However, Squall's focus reverted back to the tabletop as he downed the drink, this one much quicker than the last. He couldn't believe what he'd just done. He couldn't believe he'd just flirted with the other man.

It was just the alcohol, he told himself, and that's what Quistis had said he needed while she was sitting on his chest, brandishing her whip: A few less inhibitions.

The other man was still curiously watching Squall as ice blue eyes flicked back to see what was going on. Once he had Squall's attention he quickly finished his drink and slid across the booth to stand.

Squall looked up, questioning, as he picked up the little plastic sword he'd discarded on the table and dropped it into his empty glass.

It was then that Squall's admirer held out his hand, beckoning for Squall to come with him, to follow him into the mass of bodies on the dance floor.

Shaking his head, Squall tried to sneak further back into the booth, only to have the other man slink onto the seat on his hands and knees, crawling catlike to cup Squall's chin with one hand, forcing their eyes to meet. Then the other man let go quickly, catching Squall's arm and trying to coax the icy-eyed brunette to go with him.

Instead of relenting, Squall held his ground, not moving at first from annoyance and then from curiosity as the other man slid closer. The man leaned close as if he was going to try to yell above the music but instead only pushed aside Squall's hair and traced the outline of Squall's ear with his tongue, sending involuntary shivers through the brunette's body.

Squall felt like his body had suddenly started a war against his brain. While the last few rational thoughts in his mind told him to get out while he could, the pleasure coursing through his body as the other man licked and nipped at his neck convinced him otherwise.

Finally the other man pulled back, again offering a hand to Squall as an invitation to dance. The alcohol was starting to effectively silence that irritating voice of reason in Squall's head and with his fingers entwined with the other man's, he let himself be led into the crowd.

Before he could get lost in the bodies around him, the other man pulled him close and Squall let out a small gasp as a pair of girls pushing past threw them tighter against one another.

The black-haired man, under slightly better lights it looked black to match the rest of his adornments, just grinned wickedly as he started moving to the music, keeping Squall close and grinding against him as he effectively ran his hands over almost every inch of the brunette. Squall found himself a little slow to respond, finally finding his rhythm as he moved within the tiny space the rest of the club goers allowed him. He even let his curious fingers ghost over the body of the other, not quite processing that not only was this someone he didn't know but also another man.

And then, without warning, Squall found the other man kissing him, licking against his slightly parted lips to seek further entrance. It felt absolutely amazing, and the brunette found himself leaning into the kiss and almost sloppily kissing back a moment later.

He was thoroughly aroused midway through the kiss, a fact confirmed to him as skilled hands stroked him through his leather pants, and once those hands left his erection and moved to his cup his buttocks, he ground himself against his admirer.

Reality hit him the moment their arousals touched through many layers of thick fabric. He was half-drunk in a club, throwing himself at someone he didn't even know, and that someone happened to be another man as well.

At that moment, reality hit Squall and he realized just what he was doing.

And he ran, pushing quickly through the crowd on his way out, not even pausing to look back at the disappointed black-haired man who was still standing in the middle of the dance floor.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Squall did when he got back to the garden was throw off his clothing and stumble into the shower. He couldn't get the water adjusted to a decent temperature, at least nothing that felt decent. He finally settled with overly hot, and tried his best to scrub the entire night away.

As he turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, Squall caught a brief glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror.

"What was I doing?" he asked his reflection before looking away and drying himself off.

He pulled on a pair of clean pajama bottoms and sat down on the edge of his bed, making a quick but futile attempt to push his wet hair away from his face before letting his mind wander. He'd felt so... odd earlier, so... drunk. With a moan, Squall got up and turned off the light, not letting his mind replay the details of the evening for fear of having to fight back arousal at the thoughts of how...

Once in bed, Squall pulled his pillow over his head, as though that would somehow drive the still lingering images and sensations away.

He fell into a dead sleep moments later.

When Squall woke up, it was because someone was very lightly shaking him.

"I should call you sleeping beauty," a voice said. Squall's eyes opened wide at that and he sat straight up, knocking aside whoever had been talking to him. He most definitely wasn't in his room anymore. And he was naked save for the sheets that were now only covering his lower half.

"Remind me to leave you alone in the morning," the voice said, a hint of laughter present as the sheets beside Squall rustled.

Squall was suddenly scared to look. He vaguely knew he'd been drinking and dancing with an attractive man. Surely he hadn't done something to stupid as go home with him.

"You okay?" the voice asked before the voice's owner crawled into Squall's line of sight. It was the same man from the club, and he also seemed to be quite naked.

"I just don't... remember," Squall said softly, blinking in the low light of the room. What had he done? It seemed like a blur.

"You don't remember?"

Squall was suddenly face to face with the other man, being pulled into a deep kiss. And as much as Squall wanted to fight and push away, it felt good at the same time.

But what he really wanted to know was what had happened before he'd ended up sleeping beside his admirer.

"I'll have to remind you," the man said, almost on cue.

"What?" Squall shook his head, but it was lost on the other man, who was peeling the sheets away from them both.

"You're amazing."

Quickly glancing out over the body of the other, Squall felt like saying the same. He wasn't sure what he'd gotten himself into, but his body seemed to not want to move, so he was definitely stuck in the situation.

Then he realized he didn't even know the other man's name.

"What's on your mind?" the man whispered, his lips just inches from Squall's ear.

"I..."

"Still nervous? Don't worry, I'll take care of you," the man replied before moving so he was sprawled over Squall's body. "I'll make it even better than before."

Squall shifted a bit while trying to make himself comfortable with the new weight on top of him. After a moment though, he didn't notice it. Instead he was caught up in just where he was being touched.

The man brought his lips to Squall's a moment later and didn't let the kiss break until he'd brought Squall to full arousal between one skilled hand and his own erection. Moaning, Squall arched, pulling the other man's body to his and trying to get more friction between them.

"Impatient still," the man teased before kissing Squall's neck. "I know what you need."

Squall wanted to shake his head and escape as the other man slid his body down and started kissing and sucking on Squall's nipples. But still, Squall found he couldn't move. All he could feel was the pure pleasure as lips traced the lines of his muscles and hands worked at his arousal.

As much as he tried to fight it, wave after wave of bliss coursed through him as the black-haired man dipped again and took Squall's erection in his mouth. Moments later, he found himself approaching what had to be the most intense orgasm of his life. Despite being a quiet one, he cried out as he arched upwards and came into his mysterious lover's mouth.

Nothing had felt like that. Ever. And still panting, Squall closed his eyes for a moment and found he couldn't open them. Panic filled him for an instant before he realized he was sitting up in his own bed, and his eyes were open. It's just that his room was pitch black and it was the middle of the night.

Then what was... Squall answered his own question when he noticed his pajama bottoms were stuck to his thighs.

"A dream?"

With an unvoiced string of grumbling, he climbed out of bed and headed to his bathroom to clean up. The dream wouldn't leave his head, no matter how cold the water he ran over his washcloth was.

"I want him." It took a moment before Squall realized he'd said that out loud to his reflection in the mirror. He said it again, slowly, noting every word and waiting for it to sink in.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would go find that man and see what could possibly happen.


	3. Chapter 3

"You left early last night," Quistis said when she spotted Squall in the hallway the next morning. "But... I guess I knew you would."

"I want to go back tonight," Squall replied, almost enjoying the look of pure shock that graced Quistis' face.

"You... what?"

Later, much later, Squall found himself twisting through the throng of gyrating bodies on the dance floor on his way to the back corner of the club. He had a drink in each hand, doing the best he could not to spill them despite being crashed into from all sides.

Hopefully the one he was looking for would be there and would accept his peace offering. After yelling a description of the mystery man's beverage the night before at the harried bartender, she quickly concocted the correct drink and handed it to Squall, along with the soda he'd ordered for himself. He was going to go through the night without alcohol, just to see if what he'd felt held true with his mind sober.

As Squall made it to the edge of the crowd, he scanned the dim booths for any sign of the man he was after. No luck until he got to the end table. In the deepest darkest corner, the same table where Squall had been the night before, the man sat, visible mostly by the light bouncing randomly off his clothing's silver accents.

He didn't look over as Squall made his way to the table, instead disinterestedly watching the area near the bathrooms where a group of girls were gathered.

With a sudden motion, Squall thrust the decadent beverage he'd been carrying in front of the man. The man looked over suddenly, startled since he obviously hadn't heard Squall walk over. His eyes were wide as he looked over Squall, and the surprise in them grew as Squall sat down.

The music was too loud for Squall to offer explanation. Instead he just gave the glass another little push and tried to smile. He got a smile in return from lips stained black. Silver rings shone like a rainbow in the flashing lights from the dance floor as the man reached for the drink, sipping a bit before reaching a hand to touch Squall's face.

Squall couldn't hold back a slight shiver at the touch. The images from his dream were rushing back to him and somehow it seemed as if they were shared memories. There was a definite shine in the other man's eyes. Squall just let himself be guided into a kiss, quick, questioning, yet still sure to have smeared the lipstick Selphie had so carefully traced his lips with earlier.

The man gave Squall a slightly confused glance once their lips parted, asking silently just how willing Squall was. Squall answered as best he could, crawling onto the man's lap to straddle his legs and kiss those beautiful black lips again. He was trying not to be too eager but not too passive either. It would all depend on the man currently grinding against him from below, really.

Within five minutes, their drinks were forgotten as they fled the club hand in hand, almost running out into the cool night air only to end up kissing against the side of the building in the dim light of the alley.

"You came back," the man said softly as he traced Squall's jaw with one hand. "Why?"

"I left too early last night," Squall replied, turning to kiss the fingers that were now touching close to his lips.

"I thought I'd frightened you off for good."

"I don't scare easily," Squall said before pausing. "Should we get a taxi?"

"I just live a couple of blocks away," the man said. "But I don't even know your name."

"I don't know yours," Squall shot back before letting himself be kissed again.

"Damon," the man said softly as his lips left Squall's.

"Squall."

"You're making that up," Damon said with a grin as he stretched his body quickly before holding out a hand to Squall. "Though... you do look wild... stormy."

Squall didn't say a word as he was led through the alleyway, keeping close to Damon as they walked. Damon hadn't lied - his apartment was in a smaller complex only three blocks from the club.

"It's easier to take the elevator up," Damon said. "If you're still okay with this."

"I..." But Squall couldn't really figure out what he should be saying. He wasn't going to mention his dream yet.

One slim finger reached out to press the elevator's up button, lighting a small arrow on the panel above.

"It always takes a minute," Damon explained as he wrapped himself around Squall, seeming to try to touch as much of the brunette as he could at once.

Squall just nodded. His slight nervousness was melting away as Damon touched him. After all, it wasn't as though either were committing to anything besides a night of pleasure.

The elevator dinged and opened its door slowly, revealing a modest bit of faded red fabric and a cloudy mirror against the back wall.

Damon practically pulled Squall into it, just inched ahead of the aged doors crashing closed.

"You have to watch those," Damon said, smiling as he ran his finger through Squall's hair. "They aren't the type that bounce open again if they hit something."

Squall nodded silently, letting his hands slide down Damon's body, pulling Damon close.

"Nnn. Squall, I need to hit the button."

"Which one?" Squall asked, looking at the tarnished panel of buttons. There were only a handful of buttons as options.

"Four," Damon replied, watching as Squall trailed his fingers over the cool metal to press the correct button.

"I could just hit the stop button and trap us in here," Squall said as the elevator began ascending. "I like the mirror."

Damon's face registered a bit of shock before settling to a smirk. "Let's make of it what we can, while we can."

Somehow, Squall ended up behind Damon, his arms wrapped around Damon's thin frame as they both faced the mirror. The elevator was just dinging for the second floor as Squall slipped a hand down over Damon's covered arousal, his other hand rising to cup Damon's chin and force the man to watch their reflections.

"Squall," Damon moaned softly, pressing forward against Squall's lower hand. "Didn't think you..."

Squall didn't say anything, instead he slid his hand back up to pull at Damon's zipper. Carefully he unzipped Damon's pants before sliding his hand inside, feeling Damon's body hot against him. Pressing forward with his own body, Squall rubbed his own arousal against Damon's backside.

The elevator dinged for the third floor as Squall stroked the length of Damon's erection, freeing it from Damon's pants and watching them both in the mirror as he did so.

Damon shuddered, his breath hitching in his throat for a second as Squall boldly repeated the motion with his hand. His hesitation had melted away once he decided this was purely for the experience, nothing more complicated unless it arose later.

And Damon was gorgeous even in the harsh fluorescent elevator lighting. He lost none of his exotic charm once away from the club setting.

Squall nipped gently at the space between the top of Damon's shirt and the bottom of the spiked collar he wore. Moving his hand faster, Damon moaned and thrust forward, rocking against Squall's hand.

The elevator lurched to a stop, nearly toppling both men before parting its ancient doors. Quickly, Damon pulled away, pulling his shirt over his exposed body and practically running from the elevator after grabbing Squall's hand. The first apartment was his, and after a fumble with his key, he opened the door and flicked on the light.

"It's messy," Damon said apologetically, searching for breath as Squall shut the door and surveyed the room. "I haven't had company in awhile."

Squall shrugged and stepped forward, claiming Damon's lips again and guiding them over onto the low sofa he had noticed during his scan of the premises. His training never left him, even when he found himself needing desperately.

Damon ended up on top of Squall, pulling at his clothing. It wasn't much different than his normal outfit, really, except for the dark shirt. The shirt flew off over his head a moment before black lips kissed both his neck and his necklace. Squall could just see Damon running his tongue over Griever before glancing up to meet Squall's eyes.

"Ever done this before?" Damon asked before dipping to lick a circle around one of Squall's nipples.

"Not like this," Squall replied, his voice cracking just a bit as he spoke.

Damon just smiled before sliding his body lower, sure to rub against Squall's arousal as he did so.

Squall let out a slight hiss, reaching down to help Damon with the belts that crossed just over his hips.

"We should really move to the bedroom," Damon said before stroking the still-covered bulge between Squall's legs.

With few words, they made their way to Damon's bed. Both had shed clothing between the sofa and the bed, Damon more than Squall.

Both of their voices filled the room as they kissed and touched one another. Still both wearing their pants, Damon pulled himself on top of Squall and started grinding his arousal against Squall's. They both cried out and after a brief hesitation from Squall, he thrust upwards to match Damon's motions.

"Need..." Squall muttered, his hands grasping at Damon's back as he rocked beneath Damon.

"You still sure?" Damon asked, pulling himself free and sliding to the other side of the bed.

Squall nodded and watched half-curiously as Damon leaned over to rummage through a pile of junk on the night table beside the bed.

"Here you go." Damon tossed a small container over to Squall, who caught it without thinking. Damon raised an eyebrow but didn't question. This wasn't about who they were outside of the moment.

Squall looked at what he held for a moment before making the connection. Setting it beside him on the bed, both men stared at one another, lost in the sudden awkwardness of the moment.

Just before the tension and silence hit the point of sheer discomfort, Damon stood up and started pulling off the last of his clothing. It didn't take much effort - Squall'd had him practically out of his pants to begin with.

Staring for a moment, Squall took in every detail he could of Damon's willowy form. The few tattoos that traced across Damon's pale skin only carried over the man's exotic look.

With a smile, Damon laid back down on the bed, watching Squall while taking his erection in his hand and stroking it a couple of times. Squall let out a short, low moan before crawling so he could kiss Damon's lips and wrap his own hands back around Damon's arousal.

"Thank you," Damon gasped once his dark lips were parted from Squall's.

"For what?" Squall was quickly pulling off his own pants as best he could without leaving the bed.

"Being real and not a dream," Damon replied, his face showing momentary confusion at Squall's sudden expression of disbelief.

Squall didn't reply. Instead he threw his pants over the edge of the bed and moved to lie over Damon, claiming Damon's lips as he pressed his arousal against Damon's. Moaning into each other's mouths, they shifted enough to get hands between them, touching, teasing and stroking one another as they kissed.

Squall felt wonderful. He wished he'd verbally echoed Damon's sentiment about the dream - reality was so much better. And arousing.

But his mouth was busy against Damon's for the time being, and he was barely thinking much of anything save for giving and receiving pleasure.

"More!" Damon cried out as he pulled free from Squall and grabbed wildly until he found the lubricant. Thrusting it into Squall's hands, he spread his legs ever so slightly. "Please."

With a nod, Squall complied, gingerly coating his fingers with the lube and reaching down between Damon's legs, pushing them apart to find what he was after.

He was trying not to think too much about it - trying to hold control over the situation. And as he slid one finger into Damon's tight heat, he wondered momentarily what was possessing him. With a second finger now thrusting into Damon's body, Squall found himself desperately needing something more himself.

"You want...?" Squall began, only to catch Damon's black-lined eyes and know the answer. The heat where his fingers had been felt impossibly tight as the pressed himself into Damon's body.

"Squall!" Damon cried as Squall paused fully inside his body. He reached up and pulled Squall close to him, one hand's fingers grabbing at Squall's hair.

Almost without thinking, Squall pulled back and thrust again, pushing Damon's legs up as he did so. Everything felt so intense - he didn't know how long he could hold back.

A few minutes later, Damon cried out again and dug his nails into Squall's back. Squall was momentarily confused until he felt Damon's body shake beneath and around his. His body responded, speeding toward an orgasm that threatened to steal every last drop of Squall's energy.

After they cleaned up, they lay under a pair of blankets, idly talking.

"You're different than I expected," Damon said. "Yet not too different."

"Oh?"

"But really, why... Why did you come back?"

Squall paused a moment. "Friendly persuasion."

"From one of your friends?" Damon asked, propping himself up on one arm so he could brush some of the hair from Squall's face.

"From you," Squall replied, ready to explain his dream and work backwards from there.


End file.
